


Maybe

by Taitsu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Babbling, Gen, Madness, Maybe - Freeform, What Was I Thinking?, my thoughts, something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:43:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taitsu/pseuds/Taitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe I don't undestand"</p>
<p>my thoughts over some useless matter that are not nearly that positive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I talk with myself and this came up... it's not worth it, turn around now that you still can.

Maybe I don't understand them, or they don't understand me; either way it's the same. In the end it won't change, it won't matter, it won't mean a thing. It's simple, thought, whenever you try you can success or you can fail. Both are possible, yet not both will happen.

Maybe living is dying, and dying is living, or maybe both are just states of mind no one is able to get out of. Maybe they try too hard to keep living when nothing will stop their deaths; and maybe, just maybe, we are all already dead.

 We don't even know if we are truly alive or dead as we never tasted the other. To know dark we saw light, to know light we've seen dark. So how do we really know we are alive if we've never been dead? For now, I'll say, we are both, dead and alive; or in other words, that none is real.

Playing with silly and untruthful words it's easy for everyone; ensures you no hurt and maybe, sometimes, you'll get to hurt someone who'll trust you or at the very least will maybe believe you.

As playing with words means playing with people, dead or alive, who cares? It's the same if we are in the same state; then it all comes to that. What it's so funny about it all? If you only lie to yourself through the whole night and until dawn, why would anyone else believe in your words? It' hard to make people understand the words you don't want to say. The words that are simple lies.

This is curious, I believe. I feel them staring at me, however, as I can't tell the difference between living and dead I don't distinguish them, how can I be certain that they are not dead hunting for my soul? And how can I be sure that those are not frightened stares from living to the dead? I wish I knew. Maybe if I did, I would be able to do something.

But, what would be of me if neither of us is dead or alive? What would my existence mean? Do I even exist? These questions are useless, why do people bother with them? If I knew I would be able to make them understand how useless it is to questions such things; to want to know why do they exist when they don't even know what or who they are.

Maybe, making them go to the other state will help them. Maybe if their blood is spilled out and over the floor will make them realize how useless was thinking all that. Show them how they waste their time with their own guts.

I must leave, I don't know where but I'll go. Far away to a place from where I will never be able to return. However, who cares? Who will pay attention to this, when it's just some weird and unimportant words I wrote when mad; some words that won't do any difference and will be forgotten even by me.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who read this, thank you (even if I don't know why you did read this)


End file.
